


Five Times Bodhi Recited Poetry

by FandomShuffle



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, C.Poindexter, E.Hemingway, Everybody Lives, Fluff and Angst, Love Poems, M/M, Poetry, Post-Rogue One, Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24455728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomShuffle/pseuds/FandomShuffle
Summary: -and the one time that Cassian did.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Bodhi Rook, Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Five Times Bodhi Recited Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> So, a friend challenged me to write a story under two hours. This is the result. Give it a chance? I love Riz Ahmed and Diego Luna. Ugh! Such talented beings with big brains. (Riz MC's Karma is playing on repeat as I post this.)
> 
> This is not Beta'd, but I did proofread it. Please pardon me if there are any mistakes left. On to the story...

After miraculously surviving Scarif, they had a long and well-earned leave. It’s a medical leave, but Cassian isn’t one to kick a horse in the mouth. In their leave, they spent most of it in the medical bay of the base—therapy of different kinds were lined up to them. Jyn tried fighting it, but she soon found out not to mess with the Rebel Alliance’s healers.

They were gathered together, discussing the many intricate ways of cheating in sabacc when they were informed that there would be a memorial for the fallen people of Jedha. Baze and Chirrut were quick to assure their attendance while Bodhi seemed to be a little unsure. Their pilot very much convinced that the fall of Jedha was his fault.

Jyn, as the way that she is, smacked him in the back of his head. “Don’t be stupid. It’s my father who created the Death Star. You’re just the pilot who delivered cargo. If you’re taken away from the equation, they could have found another pilot. One that may have never delivered the message to Saw. The Death Star would still be made and Jedha would still be in ashes.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” Cassian tried to get a peek on Bodhi’s expression. “You also tried your best to right your wrong. And, despite everything that happened, you have the right to mourn your home.”

“Okay, I’ll come,” Bodhi answered in his anxiety-riddled voice. Cassian wanted to brush aside the strands of his hair to see his face better. He kept his hands to himself.

In the memorial, the Jedhans were encouraged to say a few words about their home and its people. Baze offered words in their native tongue, Chirrut shared lore about the kyber crystals, and others shared their personal stories. When they got to Bodhi, he stood still for a moment—eyes shining with unshed tears.

He opened his mouth, hesitating before finally speaking. “I missed you for too long.” Cassian can feel the longing in Bodhi’s voice. “In too many ways, that it just became a part of me, engraved deeper into my heart with the passing of time.” Bodhi’s cadence made them realize that he’s reciting a poem. Cassian’s heart is beating against his chest—double time. “I would wake up, stretch, breathe, and miss you. They told me to let it go.” Bodhi’s voice hardened at this part. “To let you go and I would say; you cannot simply will your heart to stop beating. That no matter how long you hold your breath for, you cannot hold it forever. And I would only stop missing you if I stopped being myself entirely.”

The crowd had tears in their eyes—so did Bodhi, Cassian wanted to also hang onto his lashes like his tears.

* * *

They were finally out of the medical. It was the only procedure that they do their briefing. The distrust coming from some higher-ups of the Rebellion made Jyn and Bodhi uncomfortable.

General Draven made them repeat their stories more than three times. Interrupting now and then to ask unnecessary questions or to just throw them off. Cassian tried to defend them but he’s rank doesn't outrank Draven.

The General is asking Bodhi to retell his side of the mission. This time, Draven wants Bodhi to give as much detail as he can about his imprisonment in Saw Gerrera’s hands. Bodhi’s eyes would always get a bit cloudy when he’s talking about it.

Draven can tell that there’s something Bodhi’s not sharing. Cassian cannot fault Bodhi in keeping his—torture to himself. “If you don’t tell us the whole truth, you will be detained.”

Bodhi avoided his eyes—staring at nothing at the wall of Draven’s office. The way Bodhi’s eyes seemed to turn soulless worried Cassian. If there’s one way that Cassian can describe Bodhi’s eyes, it would be expressive. Seeing it so…It’s wrong.

“Ultimately,” Bodhi spoke softly, it was almost a whisper. “I tried to tell the truth. Dry mouthed at first, I drooled and slobbered in the end. Truth dribbling my chin.”

When Bodhi looked back at Draven, there was determination in his eyes. He reported his torture detail by excruciating detail in a detached manner. Cassian didn’t know if he should be proud. He was sure hurting for Bodhi.

In the end, General Draven’s face looked ashen—but Bodhi’s was one of serenity as if he was freed.

* * *

It was Jyn’s life day—they decided that a celebration was needed. But from the amount of alcohol being passed from Jyn to Bodhi, Cassian is starting to realize it’s still mourning.

“Can you tell me something about my father?” Jyn asked Bodhi in a strange yet hurt voice. Cassian realized that Galen might have spent more time with Bodhi that Jyn. Their circumstance didn’t lend much between the daughter and father.

Bodhi stared at her for a moment, considering what he should tell her from the way he was looking. He licked his lips wet—the action caught Cassian’s eyes. “We like the same poet.” There’s a light in his eyes that Cassian hasn’t seen before and it was aimed at Jyn. “We sometimes share poetries we liked.”

“Can you—“Jyn’s voice cracked and she had to clear her throat before speaking up again. “Can you tell us one he had shared with you?”

“If I showed you my teardrops, would you collect them like rain?” Bodhi started—he’s wholly focused on Jyn. It sent bitter acids on Cassian’s stomach rolling. “Store them in jars that are labeled with pain. Would you follow their tracks from my eyes down my cheeks? As they write all the stories I’m too scared to speak. Would you stop them with kisses?” Cassian’s chest is being squeezed. “Bring their flow to a halt, as you teach me that pain isn’t always my fault. Would you hold my face gently?” Bodhi moved to do exactly that to Jyn, tucking the woman’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “As you dry both my eyes and whisper the words; You’re too precious to cry.” Bodhi wiped Jyn’s tears away. “If I showed you my teardrops, would you show me your own? And learn though we’re lonely, we’re never alone.”

Jyn smiled at Bodhi. “Thank you.”

“I send some poems to your datapad.” Bodhi offered as he took back his hand.

Jyn laughed wetly. “I’m not a fan of poetry. Besides, I think I like it better when I hear it from you.”

Bodhi looked down on his glass of drink—ears pink, it got Cassian wishing that he was the one that elicits that kind of reaction from the pilot.

* * *

They were coming home from a mission—just the two of them. Cassian cherishes moments like this. As much as he loves the little family they have created for themselves, he craves Bodhi’s attention to be solely his. It gives him a chance to get to know Bodhi better and to catalog everything about the other man.

They sat in the cockpit, Cassian being the co-pilot as they watch the lights of the hyperspace pass by. Well, Bodhi was watching the lights. Cassian was watching Bodhi.

“The first poetry I ever heard.” Bodhi started with a wistful tone. “It was also the poetry that made me want to be a pilot.” There was genuine happiness in his voice that tells Cassian that he’s remembering a happy memory.

“What is it?” He wants to know but also wants to hear Bodhi recite another poem. There’s so much emotion being carried in each word that he utters that it reaches Cassian’s soul that he never knew he had.

“There’s freedom…” Bodhi paused with effect, “…waiting for you. On the breezes of the sky.” He said the last word as if it’s magical. “And you ask; what if I fall?” His voice was filled with childish worry—only to change to something filled with assuring love. “Oh, but my darling—what if you fly?”

“And, so you fly.” The words were out of Cassian’s mouth before he could even think about it.

Bodhi turned to him with a smile—Cassian wanted that smile to be forever etched on Bodhi’s face and entire being.

* * *

Bodhi cried—big fat tears the moment Chirrut told him that he and Baze would be going away. They were too old to keep on fighting. Their little family moving to different directions and Bodhi’s being stretched to two different directions. He wanted to go with them, find peace somewhere but he also wanted to stay with Jyn. He wanted to care for his little sister.

Cassian holds him and tries to soothe his sadness. The couple promising that they’d keep in touch and they would always have a place in the home that they are about to build. Bodhi said that he would hold on to those promises and makes sure that he will come home to them as soon as the fighting is over. He will survive to come home—Jyn promises the same.

Bodhi and Jyn held each other as they watch Chirrut and Baze got onto a cargo ship that would take him to a safer planet somewhere in the galaxy. With Jyn’s head settled under Bodhi’s chin, he spoke in a strange tone. “The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded sometimes destroyed.” A small yet relieved smile appeared on his lips. “I’m glad they’re not destroyed.”

Jyn sniffled. “Nothing will ever destroy them, they’re the best kind of worst.”

Bodhi’s held her tighter—Cassian wonders if Bodhi could see the same virtues in himself.

* * *

There’s only so much a man’s heart can handle. Cassian tried, he really did. But, Bodhi has a gravity of his own, and Cassian couldn’t stop himself from being pulled in. He would admit though, that since he was pulled in, he didn’t ever want to be parted from Bodhi.

He decided that it’s time to come clean—to confess of his feelings even if he’s not sure if Bodhi feels the same. If K-2 was here, the droid would probably be talking his ears off with probability. Cassian likes taking his chances, if his heart bleeds then it bleeds for a man with a heart and mind made of kyber. He’ll be hurt but Bodhi’s worth all of that and more.

Still, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try his best to earn Bodhi’s affections.

“Recite a poem to him.” Jyn’s advice was sound, but Cassian doesn’t know much about poetry. Jyn gave him a look that says a lot and Cassian cannot interpret it as good as Bodhi. She handed him a datapad after scrolling through it. “Choose one, practice how you will say it and you better have something prepared other than poetry—or else.”

So, Cassian prepared something other than poetry. He had to pull a lot of strings, call in a few favors, and maybe a bit of blackmail—nothing too serious, though. He managed to get them a mission that is easy to a relaxed planet. He got the higher-ups to agree that they run the mission for a standard week. Mothma was looking at his with a knowing smile, but he kept his face as stoic as possible.

After getting all the details in place—and finishing the mission, Cassian took Bodhi camping to a forest. Well, it’s not much camping if they’re just a few meters away from their ship—whatever. He has a plan.

The poetry—it’s ready. He practiced in front of Jyn whilst she laughed at him and directed him to the person who can help him. He asked for pointers –from the Princess because it seems like she’s the only person in the base who knows something about poetry besides Bodhi. He had memorized it by heart and had been muttering it whenever there’s free time and Bodhi is not around.

Now, alone in the woods staring at the millions and millions of stars—Cassian’s tongue felt like led. His heart is dancing the cha-cha against his ribcage. And, it feels like he’s going to vomit—oh, Maker, don’t let him vomit.

Bodhi turned to him with a concerned look. “Cassian, are you okay?”

“I—Uhm…” his throat felt dry and his hands are sweaty. “I am yours.” Oh, Force Bodhi is looking at him like he just transformed into a Wookie. “I am yours as the stars belong to the sky.” He took in a deep breath—trying to get all the emotions in. “And I am yours as the rivers belong to the sea. I am yours as your tears belong to your eyes.” Bodhi’s eyes were shining with recognition and awe. “And I am yours as your lungs belong to the pattern in which you breathe.” Cassian can finally say it. “Bodhi, I am yours.”

“You recited Poindexter for me.” Bodhi’s lashes fluttered against his cheeks when he blinked the tears away.

“I would have recited Neruda but his poems don’t sound right in basic.” Cassian smiled nervously. “So…will you be mine?”

Bodhi smiled and cradled his face between both hands—Cassian would have recited a million and one poetry for him. When their lips touched, Cassian decided that he will.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think? Is it okay for a two hour story? I hope it made you smile at the very least. I'm gonna go and write my Ben/Poe story. (Exits to the left with a twirl of a lightsaber.)


End file.
